


The World Turned Upside-Down

by RedBerrie



Series: The Hamil-ABO 'Verse [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex Is Sick And Thomas Helps Him Through It, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Or Is It? Dun Dun DUN, Sickfic, That's it, that's the whole fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 09:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14913144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBerrie/pseuds/RedBerrie
Summary: “You're sick,” she said simply. “You may want to get some rest.”“I'm fine,” Alex scowled at her.In response, she simply raised an eyebrow, before following the twins down the hallway.Alex is feeling very under the weather. To the surprise of absolutely no one, he's the last one to acknowledge this fact.





	1. The Symptoms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is part of my "[Hamil-ABO](https://archiveofourown.org/series/636134)" series. You DO need to have read the rest of the fics in that series before reading this one, at least to understand everything that's going on.
> 
> Just in case someone didn't read all the tags, this fic does take place in an A/B/O setting.
> 
> Because this takes place in an A/B/O setting, in which half the population are omegas -- and, therefore, functioning hermaphrodites -- words like "mother" and "father" don't have the same gendered qualities to them as they do in our world. The parent who gestates the baby is the mother, and the parent who impregnates the mother is the father, regardless of sex or gender. **In this fic, I will be referring to Alex, a male, as the mother.** However, his children call him a gender-neutral name.

Even though it had existed only four and a half years, there had been plenty of sickness in the Jefferson family. Some of that was naturally due to the twins, because three-year-olds get sick more often than adults do and two three-year-olds get sick twice as often as one alone. But most of it landed on the shoulders of their mother, as Alexander Jefferson got sick often enough that it was almost a running joke.

Still, when Alex found himself sniffling at his desk one day, he wasn't too worried – it was August, and summer was a month that was usually good to him. Sure, he had had summer colds before, but the practically-inhospitable Virginian winters were the times that he had to really watch his health. At which point he would grumble as the thermometer started to drop, knowing what was coming. Thomas would laugh at him, remind him that Virginian winters hardly got below freezing, then take him to get his flu shot in September and make sure he took his vitamins and washed his hands often.

Alex smiled, thinking about how well his mate took care of him. And then had just enough time to grab a tissue from the box on his desk before a short but strong series of coughs rocked his small frame.

Of course, the coughing dislodged the mucus in his nose, which meant that he had to blow it. By the time he finished that task (and used the hand sanitizer, naturally), his head was pounding hard enough that he was grasping for the acetaminophen. He gulped down the pills, then sagged back into his chair with a sigh. Only for his lungs to protest the sigh with another coughing fit.

A knock on his office's door startled him. “Anything I can get you, sir?” Abraham, their butler of sorts, asked.

Alex waved the beta off, all he could do as he was currently gasping for breath. “I'm good,” he finally managed.

“I … see,” Abraham replied, those two words loaded with meaning. Alex frowned at him, and would reply, if talking didn't take up so much effort. “Be sure to tell me if that changes.”

Alex nodded, then went back to work. Or tried to, at least. The letters on his laptop screen kept blurring. He coughed into his tissue again, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, and tried to focus on the speech he was currently writing for Washington.

He had gotten a pitiful amount done when the front door suddenly slammed shut. He jerked up from the light doze he had slipped into, then blinked at the clock in shock. It was three o'clock already – the door slam was the twins coming home from preschool.

Like every workday, the two immediately trotted down the hallway to his office, Maria in tow. “Lala!” they cried happily.

Lala was their name for Alex. When the twins had been about fourteen months old, Alex had done something – they couldn't remember what, now – that had frustrated Thomas. The Alpha had thrown up his hands and huffed out a loud, “Alex!” The twins, amused that their mother was in trouble, had giggled, and Ellie had attempted to repeat the word. Of course, at that age, all she had managed was a “la”. JJ had taken up the cry, and soon they had been alternating between cooing “La! La! La!” at Alex and giggling. Their argument forgotten, both parents had been immensely amused; the babies sensed that amusement and it had become A Thing. The name had stuck, and now Alex was Lala.

Normally, when the twins got home from preschool, Alex would embrace them both, ask them about their day, and make sure they were doing as they were told. They would show off any paintings or crafts they had done that day. They would talk about any problems they were having. Coming home from preschool was a happy occasion.

Not today. He had managed a watery smile as the twins rounded the corner of his office, prepared to greet them as warmly as he could, before both children were suddenly brought up short at the threshold.

Maria had a firm hold on both children's shirt collars. “Lala is very busy,” she told the twins with a regretful smile on her face. “Why don't we say 'hello, Lala!' from here, then go play in the playroom, hmm?” Then shot a meaningful look at Alex. Which would be very important, he could tell, if he could decipher exactly what that meaning _was._

The twins pouted up at Maria, but the Alpha was firm, and soon they were obediently waving at him from the doorway. “Hello, Lala!” they giggled.

Alex was about to answer, when another round of coughing stopped him short. When the coughing stopped and his vision cleared of black spots, the children were gone and Maria was left standing in the doorway alone. “You're sick,” she said simply. “You may want to get some rest.”

“I'm fine,” Alex scowled at her.

In response, she simply raised an eyebrow, before following the twins down the hallway.

“I'm fine,” Alex told the room as a whole. Then quickly brought the tissue to his nose, which had started to run again.

* * *

Senator Thomas Jefferson (R-Va.) had just gotten into his car to head home when his phone chirped with an incoming text message. He pulled the phone from his jacket pocket to read the text.

> _**From: Maria  
>  ** _ _Fair warning: your mate is sick and insisting he's fine._

Thomas frowned at the phone. 'Sick and insisting he's fine' sounded like Alex, but the date was wrong. Alex rarely got sick during the summer.

Still, stranger things had happened. And the twins had just gone to preschool for the first time this year; it was entirely possible that one of them had brought home a bug of some sort. Thomas snorted fondly, thinking that Alex _would_ be the one to get sick first, even if the exposure was second-hand.

“Samuel?” Thomas addressed the driver. “I think we'll be making a stop at the pharmacy on the way home.”

Alex had been sick so often, Thomas didn’t even have to weigh the active ingredients or go through any sort of other selection process — he went straight to the back of the store, purchased Alex’s favorite kind of Sudafed that was only available behind the counter, assured the pharmacy technician that he wasn’t going to use it to make meth, grabbed some NyQuil and cough drops while he was back there, and was back in the car within ten minutes.

When he got home, Thomas didn’t even bother going to their bedroom. Instead, he grabbed a ginger ale from the kitchen and the thermometer from the medicine cabinet, and headed straight for Alex’s office.

The omega was much worse than Thomas was expecting. Whatever this bug was, it had come on fast. Thomas spent a moment being amused at his stubborn mate trying not to nod off and scowling at the laptop screen like it was the computer’s fault, before striding into the room.

Alex glared at him, knowing instantly what he was here for. “ ‘M fine,” the omega insisted. To Thomas’ eye, he didn’t look fine. Pale, clammy skin made the dark bags under his eyes and the bright red around his nose and mouth that much more vivid.

Ignoring the scrutiny, Alex turning back to his laptop. The scowl deepened at whatever was on the screen. He worked quickly to delete what had been written, but not before Thomas caught sight of the long string of “ghccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccccc”.

“Speaking in tongues now?” he teased the man as he rucked his t-shirt up. Alex didn’t help, but didn’t protest either, as the thermometer was pressed under his armpit. “Got you some Sudafed on the way home.”

“I don’t need it,” was the immediate response.

Thomas clicked his tongue. “Alex, man, you look like Hell, you’re falling asleep in the middle of the day, and you’re running a fever.” As if that was its cue, the thermometer beeped that it was finished. Thomas reached under Alex’s shirt to dig it out. “A fever of ...” he read the display “... 101.7.”

“ ‘M fine,” Alex insisted again. Then punctuated that statement with a coughing fit that put Thomas’ teeth on edge.

Sometimes the Alpha felt like he had three children instead of two. “Please, Alex? For me? You have to admit that you’d benefit from a nap.”

Alex looked up at him then, considering. “A _short_ nap,” he qualified.

“Absolutely,” Thomas promised. “Just lay down for a couple of hours, all I’m asking.”

“That’s not a short nap,” Alex protested. But he was closing out the programs on his laptop while he said it.

“Don’t forget the Sudafed,” Thomas reminded him. Alex scowled at him again, but took the pills anyway.

Thomas helped him to their bedroom, helped him strip down to his boxer briefs (“you just wanted to get me naked,” Alex teased, and Thomas looked at his snot-smeared face and said nothing), then helped him into bed. The Alpha then pulled the blinds, draped Alex’s clothes over a chair, and left. The omega was snoring loudly before his fingers touched the door knob.

* * *

The next thing Alex knew, he was being shaken. “Alex, Hon,” a familiar voice was calling him. He startled awake, but the familiar surroundings as well as the Alphan scent in his nostrils soothed him quickly.

“Time to take your next dose,” the voice said again. Pills appeared in front of him, as well as a canned drink. Obediently he popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them down with the flat ginger ale in the can. Then hands were pressing him back down into the bed, and the voice was telling him to sleep. That voice was smart, he decided. He lay back down and allowed himself to drift off.

* * *

The next time he was actually aware, he was startled at just how dark it was. The familiar weight of Thomas' arm was draped across his side, and the Alpha was snoring lightly into his ear. He looked at the bedside clock to find that it was 4:28 AM.

So much for a short nap.

He inhaled — or tried to — and the misery hit him hard and fast. His head was throbbing in pain. His sinuses were completely clogged with mucus. Completely. And now that mucus was draining down the back of his throat. The sensation sent him on a coughing fit that left him feeling dizzy and nauseous. Gasping for breath afterward reminded him of exactly how raw his throat was. And as if all that wasn’t enough, he had heartburn.

He felt familiar arms wrap around him. “Are you okay?” Thomas asked softly.

“Gimme a minute,” he gasped out. Then winced at the breathy way it came out. And the way his throat pain intensified when he talked.

Thomas kissed his temple softly. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, then left the room.

He wasn’t gone long. Alex was just debating whether or not he wanted to lay back down when Thomas came back with a glass of apple juice and three pills — two Sudafed and a melatonin. “Sorry I missed your last dose,” the Alpha apologized sheepishly.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Alex replied. Or tried to. The words came out as a whisper. His voice, apparently, was taking a vacation. Wonderful. Even better, the attempt launched him into another coughing fit.

Thomas held him through the coughing, then as he took the pills. The extra vitamins and natural sugars in the juice would help give his body the energy it needed to fight this infection, he knew, but he couldn’t help resenting it a bit for being thicker than water. Pills swallowed, he went to work trying to unclog his sinuses, but had to give it up for a lost cause after filling four tissues left him feeling no better.

Thomas started to help him lay back down, but Alex winced at the way the acid burned at his esophagus. “Extra pillow?” he gasped to his mate, who was more than happy to comply.

Thomas then set the timer on his phone, presumably for Alex’s next dose of meds, then went to lay on his side of the bed. Alex watched him, concerned. “Guest room?” he wheezed out.

Thomas rarely slept in a different bed than Alex, even when the omega was sick. Instead, the Alpha trusted his (disgustingly) strong immune system to keep him healthy. Then, again, it had been awhile since Alex was _this_ sick. Come to think of it, he didn’t think he had been this sick since they had been bonded.

“I’ll survive,” the Alpha brushed off his concerns. Then grinned at the way Alex’s eyes narrowed in jealousy, undoubtedly knowing exactly what the omega was thinking.

“I hate you,” Alex whispered hoarsely.

“I know,” Thomas said, and grinned that much bigger.

Alex huffed in disgust and settled himself down into the bedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! I'm not going to commit to an update schedule, because this fic has been very hard to get right for some reason, and I don't want to stress myself out unnecessarily. Just know that updates are coming.
> 
> What do you guys think about "Lala"?


	2. The Doctor's Office

There was a very large difference between going out in public with his bodyguards in DC, and going out in public with his bodyguards in Charlottesville.

Even after Alex had resigned his position as Secretary of the Treasury, Washington had passed an executive order conferring the protection of the Secret Service onto the omega. He justified the order by claiming that they could never be completely sure if Thomas or Alex was the reason for Alex’s kidnapping four years ago. It was one of the most dishonest things Alex had ever seen the Alpha do, and Alex had spent two years with the man during the war while Washington was living under an assumed name and leading the entire American army from an apartment in British-occupied DC.

Still, after a year, even Washington had had to admit he was wasting taxpayer dollars. The Omega Healthcare Plan had failed to pass at that point, no other controversial bills were on the Senate’s agenda, and no one was interested in kidnapping a speechwriter, even the speechwriter for the President.

So Washington had withdrawn the Secret Service detail.

That didn’t mean that the matter was finished, however. So seamlessly that Alex would swear later that they must have planned it, Thomas hired bodyguards for his mate to take over the very day the Secret Service officers left.

Alex had been willing to humor his mate, and understood and even agreed with the hiring, but still secretly resented their presence a little. Resented, at least, until the first shift came on duty and he found out that every one of them, to a person, were athletic and surprisingly attractive Alphas that tended to the muscular. The scowl on Thomas’ face as he realized he could say nothing about the bodyguards that he himself had insisted on and he himself had hired was all just icing on the cake.

So Alex had spent the last three years amusing himself by flirting with his crazy attractive Alphan bodyguards and lightly teasing Thomas about his lack of foresight.

There was nothing amusing about the current situation.

The two bodyguards situated themselves in the corners of the waiting room, while the other patients watched curiously. Thomas helped him into a seat close to one and began filling out the paperwork on the clipboard. The receptionist watched them like a hawk to make sure Thomas filled it out and not Alex, but Alex didn’t think he could have a go at it regardless. Just sitting upright and filling his lungs with sufficient oxygen took up most of his energy.

They had been lucky in the past with doctors who respected omegas, but with their general practitioner their luck ran out. Unfortunately, Keswick Family Health was one of very few offices that put up with the bodyguards, and the only one whose wait time didn’t stretch into the weeks or even months, so they were stuck.

“Jefferson?” the nurse called into the waiting room, a male beta, although Alex made that identification more by sight and context than smell. Thomas helped Alex stand and walk towards the door, bodyguards in tow, while Alex parted his lips to pull more scents over the Jacobson organ in the roof of his mouth, trying to compensate for his clogged sinuses. One bodyguard entered the room with them while the other stood at the door.

“Just gonna get his weight, then he can sit,” the nurse said in the exam room — to Thomas, not Alex. Alex obediently stepped on the scales and held himself more or less upright while the nurse noted down his numbers onto a tablet, then allowed Thomas to help him up onto the exam table.

“He's feeling a bit under the weather, then?” the nurse asked, wrapping the cuff for the blood pressure monitor around his upper arm and pushing the button for it to inflate.

“Yes,” Thomas said, shooting Alex an apologetic look. Alex nodded to him in response – his throat hurt too much to talk, anyway. “Fever, body aches, coughing, nasal congestion, fatigue, headaches, sore throat.”

“Heartburn,” Alex rasped out, then turned to cough into his other elbow.

“Yes, and heartburn,” Thomas agreed.

The nurse noted down the list of symptoms, then the reading on the monitor. “Now I'm going to get his pulse,” he announced, gripping Alex's wrist. Alex politely waited until he was finished, then lay back on the table. The nurse wrote down the number, pursing his lips in disapproval at Alex's new position but saying nothing, then got the thermometer. “How long has he been feeling poorly?” he asked.

Thomas, who had noticed that little show of disapproval, was pursing his own lips. “How long have you felt poorly, Darling?” he asked Alex.

Normally, Alex would be all for Thomas taking a stand. Now, however, he was quite enjoying someone else doing the talking for him. “Yesterday,” he wheezed, trying to make the word as loud as possible.

Thomas gave him a fond little smile. “You've been under the weather for longer than that,” he reminded Alex gently. “Remember? You kept having a headache and heartburn last week?”

Now it was Alex's turn to purse his own lips at Thomas. “Yesterday,” he insisted again. Really, people had headaches and heartburn from time to time; there was no reason to think the two connected.

Thomas rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

And of course the nurse took Thomas' version of events over Alex's, even when those events were happening to Alex's own body. “So you've been having symptoms on and off for a week,” he read aloud as he noted it down. “He's also got a slight fever of 100.3.” He wrote that as well. “Alright, I have everything I need. The doctor will be in to see him shortly.” With one last smile to the room in general, the nurse left.

Thomas was by his side in an instant. “How are you feeling?” he asked the omega, stroking his cheek.

“Juice?” Alex croaked hopefully. Then turned to cough away from his mate.

“We left it in the car,” Thomas responded. “Do you want me to go get it?”

“Sir?” the guard in the corner spoke up. “We really can't allow you to do that. Although I'd be more than happy to get it for him.”

“Please,” Thomas responded, and the man left at a fast trot.

“Not important,” Alex insisted.

Thomas just smiled at that. “Do you want to sit up more?” he suggested.

That was something Alex could agree with. He nodded, yes, and Thomas went around to hit the button. Instantly, he could breathe better.

“What ab-” Thomas began, but the door opened and the bodyguard came back in with his Nalgene bottle filled with apple juice. Alex winced through a few sips before the thick liquid helped soothe the inflamed tissue of his throat. Thomas watched intently.

The door opened again, this time to admit a female beta in a white coat. “Good morning,” she said, with a smile that probably was meant to be disarming but didn't work as it was aimed at the Alpha and excluded the omega in the room. And because Alex had seen it before and knew what kind of foul beast hid behind it.

“Good morning, Dr. Shippen,” Thomas responded with his own smile.

Dr. Peggy Shippen smiled back, then smiled at Alex, before looking down at her tablet. “I see that Alex is sick again?” she said with a little fake sigh of concern.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Thomas said. Alex said nothing.

“His symptoms are fairly consistent with influenza, and there is a strain making its way around town,” Dr. Shippen responded. “First thing, I'd like to do a flu test.”

Alex tensed up. 'Flu test' was an innocuous name for something that was anything but. Sure enough, he watched as the doctor got a kit from the drawer.

“Has he had a rapid influenza diagnostic test before?” Dr. Shippen was asking. “Will you need to hold him still to keep him from flinching away?”

For all the time he'd spent in this office with Thomas, he couldn't remember having a flu test done with the Alpha – the last time he'd been tested for the flu, if he remembered correctly, was a year before they were bonded. That recollection was strengthened by the way Thomas was looking confused and increasingly alarmed by the language the doctor was using. The language, and, admittedly, the fear pheromones Alex himself was now putting off.

Afraid as he may be, however, Alex was still an omega with dignity. He struggled to sit up, helped by Thomas as soon as the Alpha realized what he was attempting. “I'm fine,” he croaked out.

Dr. Shippen, damn her, ignored him and looked to Thomas for his answer.

“If he says he's fine, he's fine,” the Alpha said, although he was still looking very uncertain about the turn the situation had taken.

“Very well,” said Dr. Shippen, looking like she didn't approve of Thomas' response. Alex had a very vivid fantasy about slapping that look off her face, but decided it would do him no good and probably just trigger another intense coughing spell. Instead, he watched as she unpackaged a cotton swab as long as his hand. “Hold still,” she said, and it was the only thing she would say directly to Alex throughout the entire visit.

It was hard, but Alex held himself in place while she stuck the swab up his nose, past his nasal cavity, all the way back almost to where his sinuses emptied into his throat. He stayed in place, even when he could have sworn she left the swab in place longer than necessary and took her time drawing it out. He didn't erupt into the inevitable coughing fit until the swab was safely covered.

Thomas, bless him, held him through the coughing. When the black spots faded, Dr. Shippen had already left with the sample.

“That was intense,” Thomas said, handing him the bottle of juice.

“I hate those things,” was Alex's response. “Wake me up,” deep breath, “when she comes back.”

Thomas, wonderful mate that he was, put the table back down so that Alex could nap while they waited.

* * *

“... came back positive for influenza,” Dr. Shippen was saying when he woke. “Not surprising, as, again, there is an outbreak in the area right now. Unfortunately, there's not a lot we can do from a medical standpoint. You're just going to have to wait it out and let his body get rid of the infection the old-fashioned way.”

“Is there anything you can give him to help with the symptoms?” Thomas asked from right beside him. Alex leaned against him and was rewarded with a hand massaging his scalp.

“I could prescribe him some cough medicine if you'd like,” Dr. Shippen responded, completely ignoring Alex, even though it was obvious he was awake. “For the fever and body aches, I could give you some prescription strength acetaminophen, but your over-the-counter meds are probably going to work just as well.”

Alex coughed, just a few raspy ones, and Thomas actually kissed him on the forehead. “You're also going to need to watch that,” Dr. Shippen said with a frown. “I know that your instincts are telling you to comfort your omega, but the flu is very contagious, and you'll have to be careful not to get it yourself.”

“I'll be fine,” Thomas brushed her off.

She narrowed her eyes and looked like she was going to launch into a full lecture, but Alex really, really wanted to go home now. “Antibiotics?” he croaked out before she could say anything more.

Dr. Shippen was petty enough to wait until Thomas repeated the question, pretending that she couldn't understand what he had said, before she answered it. “Antibiotics aren't going to do anything for this, as it's a virus. Again, your best strategy is just waiting it out. If he's still just as bad in a week, however, have him come back and we can make sure that there isn't a secondary infection of some sort.”

And that was that. Thomas thanked the doctor, helped him out of the room, settled with the receptionist at the check-out window, then all but carried a rapidly-tiring Alex to the car.

“I hate doctors,” Alex wheezed, before falling asleep in Thomas' lap.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those flu tests really, really suck.


	3. The Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit longer to write than I wanted. But I had surprise oral surgery (surprise in that, I was in the dentist's office thinking that my problems were going to be solved via a couple fillings, and was sitting in the oral surgeon's chair breathing in laughing gas less than 24 hours later). Also, our A/C broke. Life has been crazy, is what I'm trying to say, lol.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy some cute Jefferson kids!

Alex stayed in bed for three days. Three. And not once during that time did he ask for his laptop or even his phone. He dozed a lot, although occasionally he watched the TV on their dresser that Thomas had brought specifically for just such an occasion. Mostly, he simply slept.

It was rotten, and Thomas hated thinking about it like this, but he had to admit that it had come at a good time. Congress was out for the summer, and with no major bills on the agenda, it was easy to telecommute with his Charlottesville office. If Alex had to be so sick, better now than later, when Thomas would have had no choice but to leave him at Monticello while he was up in DC.

Now, however, he was free to spend most of his day caring for his mate. He made sure Alex ate as much as possible, although chicken noodle soup and saltines was his entire diet, and he barely ate a bowl a day. Thomas also made sure Alex got enough fluids, which was somewhat easier. The organic apple juice they had had on hand for the twins seemed to soothe the sick omega’s throat. Either way, it was exceedingly difficult for Alex to swallow, and Thomas felt like scum for making him eat when it left him whimpering in pain.

The entire routine revolved around the clock, and when Alex got his next dose of Sudafed. At that point Thomas would ply him with as much food and juice as he could stand to make the omega consume, then help him to the bathroom, then back to collapse onto the bed. Thomas would leave him to sleep and take care of any non-illness things that needed attention.

Like their children.

On the third day, JJ approached him in his office. “Daddy?” The little omega said, unsure of himself.

Alex had just had a dose of cough syrup with everything else, and the codeine meant he would be out for awhile. Thomas could turn his entire attention to his son, scooping him up to sit on his leg. “Hey, bud,” he greeted the child warmly. “What’s shakin’, bacon?”

JJ giggled at the silly phrase. “Where’s Lala?” he asked.

And Thomas really should have seen this coming. The twins would always be curious when Alex was sick, and this time he had been out for far longer than normal. “That’s a really good question,” he acknowledged. “Lala is in bed right now. He’s sick, so he’s taking care of his body by letting it rest and heal, just like you and Ellie did last winter, do you remember?”

JJ’s little nose scrunched up; he remembered, all right. “Is it diphtheria?” he asked, carefully wrapping his three-year-old mouth and tongue around the word.

It took Thomas a moment to connect the question with the twins’ recent obsession with _Balto_. “No, baby, it’s just the flu,” he assured the child. “Lala doesn’t feel good, but he’s not in danger. He just needs to have plenty of rest while his body takes care of itself naturally.”

JJ considered that for a moment. “Okay,” he finally agreed, then squirmed to be let down.

Thomas was overcome with affection for the little guy. “Before you go, can I tell you a secret?” he asked. JJ just nodded, eyes big. “Out of all my children,” and he leaned forward and whispered, “you’re my favorite omega.”

JJ giggled again. “I’m the only omega, Daddy!” he protested in the authoritative way all three-year-olds had.

“The point still stands,” he insisted. JJ giggled again, then jumped down off his lap to go play with his sister.

* * *

Alex woke. That by itself wasn’t that unusual. What was unusual was that he had woken on his own, without Thomas getting him up to take pills. In fact, he was pretty sure he was feeling better.

He lay there for several minutes before remembering that Washington was waiting for that speech he was writing. And, sure, the event that it would be given at wouldn’t be for another month, but Alex liked to complete them early, in case there was anything that wasn’t working or that Washington wanted changed.

Well, he was feeling better, right? Surely it wouldn’t hurt to sit in front of a laptop for a few minutes.

It was cold, however, so he wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. He opened the door, checked that the coast was clear, then darted across the hallway to his office. There, he eased the door closed behind him, booted up his laptop, and got to work.

It took a surprisingly long time for Thomas to come busting into the office, presumably looking for him. The Alpha’s lips were pursed in disagreement, and he was about to argue, so Alex beat him to the chance. “Before you say anything,” he rushed out, “I am genuinely feeling better, and I can't lay in bed forever.”

Thomas actually seemed to consider that for a moment. “Alright,” he drawled. “How about some ground rules?”

“Like what?” Alex asked, sensing a trap.

“How about staying in bed when you have a fever?”

Alex felt himself flush at the comment. Then realized that he was already flushed. “I don't have a fever,” he insisted.

Thomas just raised an eyebrow in response.

And, damn it, his skin did feel a little clammy, and his face did feel warm, and he probably did have a low-grade fever. “Fine,” he said. “But I'm taking my laptop to work on in bed.”

Thomas smiled. “I'll get it and your lap desk,” he promised.

* * *

By the next day, Alex was feeling good enough to see the children.

They came running into the bedroom with all the enthusiasm of their age. “Lala!” they cried happily, and Alex was far enough past the contagious stage of his illness to not hesitate before scooping them both up and giving them a quick squeeze of a hug.

“Remember, gentle,” Maria scolded, coming into the room behind them, but her reminder fell on deaf ears.

“Are you feeling better, Lala?” JJ asked, looking as concerned as he possibly could.

“Look what we made you!” Ellie, the little Alpha, took over.

“I made one, too!” JJ wasn’t going to be outdone that easily.

Suddenly, Alex found himself holding two pieces of folded construction paper. _Get Well Soon_ was written on the front of both, with a precision to the shape of the letters that meant that they had been carefully coached.

Alex opened the first one his hand touched, which was JJ’s. “Oh, look,” he said, studying the scribbles inside carefully. “Is this a lion?” It was a safe bet; JJ was going through a lion phase.

The way the omega dimples let Alex know he had guessed right. “Uh-huh,” he confirmed. “A big one!” A pause. “Big enough to scare the germs away!” As if he needed to justify drawing his favorite animal.

“Lookit mine, lookit mine!” Ellie jumped in quickly. Her card had a crayon family, smiling faces with arms and legs. There was himself, Thomas, Maria, both twins, and ... a dog? “It’s a husky,” she informed him. Trust his little Alpha to turn his get well card into a propaganda piece.

“It’s so wonderful!” he assured her. “It’s the whole family!”

“What about mine?” JJ interjected quickly.

“Yours is wonderful, too!” he assured his firstborn. “They’re both very, very lovely!” The enthusiasm caused a tickle in his throat; he tried to stifle it, but the coughing fit burst through anyway. He carefully aimed the cough into his sleeve.

“Alright, let’s let Lala have his rest,” Maria said suddenly. He scowled at her, not ready for his visit with his children to end, but she carefully pretended not to notice. “Let’s go see what there is for a snack in the kitchen, hmm?”

Alex watched the children bound off with a sigh, wishing he could go with them. But both Alphas in his household were in agreement that he needed to take it easy, and in his heart he knew that they were right.

Thomas came around to sit beside him on the bed. Alex showed the Alpha Ellie’s card. “You know we’re going to eventually have to get them a dog, right?” he asked, and wasn’t entirely proud of the amusement he felt at his mate’s look of disgust.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to [EmeraldEyedFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldEyedFairy/pseuds/EmeraldEyedFairy). My Alex and Thomas have a long way to go to be as good at parenting as hers are!


	4. The Spread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready for the angst?

It was only a few days after the twins presented their cards to him that Alex officially went back to work.

He was still having symptoms, of course. The headaches and heartburn, of all things, came and went at will. The cough, too, lingered; but, then, again, the cough and the fatigue were always the last things to leave.

The runny nose had cleared up, at least.

Thomas had asked him to only work a half day for the first few days back, and he had relented easily enough. By now, he could see the end in sight, and didn’t want to risk his flu coming back for a second round. So he slept in, worked the rest of the morning, had lunch, took a short nap, then went back to work for a few hours in the afternoon. A nice, leisurely schedule gave his body plenty of time to heal.

A schedule that also put him even farther behind.

He mumbled the wording of a particularly gnarly part of the speech to himself while getting dressed, trying to find the words to smooth it out. He texted himself a few key phrases while he was supposed to be napping, before he lost them. Even while he was ‘resting’ those few days, his mind was on the job.

So it was no surprise that he paid very little attention to Thomas’ coughs. It wasn’t surprising at all that he didn’t notice, the third day since he went back to work, when Thomas dragged his feet getting out the door a little more than usual.

In fact, when it came, the text took him completely by surprise.

* * *

Alex was not at his desk but rather in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of coffee when his phone chirped out Thomas' unique notification tone. Anyone else he would have ignored, but he felt the need to put down the pot of water to fish in his pocket for his phone. What he saw there chilled him to the bone.

> _**From: Tommy Boi <3  
> ** _ _Got your flu. Coming home early._

Alex’s whole body went cold. Thomas was sick. Thomas never got sick. Never. He was always healthy ...

Well, and people got sick. _He himself_ had just been sick. It would be fine. It would be just fine. Thomas was strong and young (well, not old, anyway) and healthy. He would get better and that was it. It would be fine.

Just then, he heard his name. “Alex?” Thomas called down the hallway.

See? If he was strong enough to walk and call for Alex at the same time, he was fine. It would be fine. Alex dropped everything and ran out of the kitchen to greet his mate. “Thom-” The name died on his lips.

Thomas saw him and smiled weakly before the effort of walking even that little bit caught up to him. The Alpha suddenly started coughing, dry but loud.

Alex stared at him in horror for several seconds before suddenly coming back to himself. At which point he sprang into action. “Let me help you to bed,” he said, automatically taking the Alpha’s elbow. “Do you need anything? Have you taken any meds? I’m pretty sure we have some Sudafed left over from my flu.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” his mate brushed him off. “Just help me to the guest room.”

He took two steps before realizing what Thomas had said. “Why do you want to sleep in the guest room?” he asked Thomas.

“Don't want you to get this,” was the Alpha's reply.

Alex shook his head. “You got it from me, remember?” he argued, leading Thomas to their room. “I'm not going to get it back from you.”

The Alpha either agreed or was too weak to argue, and allowed Alex to help him out of his suit and into their bed.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked again. “Something for your symptoms, maybe?”

“I took some Tylenol at work,” Thomas said. “I'm fine. Go work; I'll be fine.”

He would be fine. It would be fine. Alex reminded himself of that again and again as he pulled the shades, draped Thomas' suit over a chair before it wrinkled, and made for the door. Right before he left, however, he dug the baby monitor out from where they had stashed it and pointed the camera at the bed. He turned around to see Thomas' reaction to this intrusion, but the Alpha was already asleep. Bothered by that fact more than he cared to think about, Alex took the other half of the monitor and went back to work.

Or, at least, tried to work. He kept looking at the monitor, to make sure his mate was okay. It would be fine, he told himself again and again – people got sick all the time. But, still, a few minutes later he'd find himself studying the monitor, watching the pixels that represented Thomas' chest rise and fall.

The twins returned home hours later. He could hear the door slam from his office, then the gallop of two toddlers running down the hallway. "Lala!" they greeted him, but from the doorway. Ever since this last sickness, they'd been slightly hesitant around him, like they weren't sure he was fully recovered. So Alex smiled at them and beckoned them over and scooped them both up into a huge hug and squeezed tight. Both twins then thrust the finger paintings they had made into his hands and launched into a convoluted and often contradictory account of their day in preschool.

Alex tried to pay attention, he really did. But his eyes kept straying to the monitor. Eventually, the twins picked up on his distress and quieted. Ellie, little Alpha that she was, even started to press her scent glands.

His three-year-old daughter trying to comfort him snapped him out of his preoccupation with Thomas' illness. “Right,” he said to the children. “Thank you so much for the paintings! They’re gonna go right here!” So saying, he pinned both paintings on the cork board hung over his desk for just such a reason, right beside the cards they had made him days earlier. “Now, you too must be hungry, hmm?” Both twins nodded solemnly. “How about we go to the kitchen and see if there isn’t some froyo in the freezer, hmm?”

More enthusiastic nods. Ellie took off down the hallway, but stopped almost immediately and trotted back. JJ insisted on his Lala carrying him, at which point Ellie insisted on being carried as well. A toddler on each hip, Alex shot one more glance at the monitor before leaving.

Maria looked between him and the monitor, then fell in place behind him and the kids. “The Senator sick?” she asked him. He nodded, and she made a face. “How bad?” she asked.

“Not bad,” Alex admitted. “It’s probably just the flu or something. It’s just, he never gets sick, you know? I just can’t stop worrying.”

Maria didn’t respond in words as he put the twins down to look in the freezer. Instead, she put her hand on his shoulder and pressed her own scent glands. Alex leaned back into her and allowed himself to be just an omega accepting comfort from a familiar Alpha for a moment, before scooping out two small bowls of the organic dairy-free peach froyo that Thomas insisted they buy instead of the real stuff.

The twins ate their froyo, but there was a sense of melancholy in the air now. Maria finally nudged Alex. “I know that you're dying to check on your mate,” she said. “Go on. I'll watch the kids.”

* * *

Thomas woke later and took stock. Although his nose was runny, and his head was pounding from the inevitable sinus headache, he definitely could feel worse. He had no fever, he only mildly ached, and had had absolutely no problems with heartburn. He seemed to have escaped the worst of his mate's symptoms.

Speaking of his mate, the warmth of Alex's body seeped through the omega's tee and into his own. Which was odd, as the light coming in through the blinds indicated that it was still early yet. He turned slightly to look at his bedside clock, careful not to disturb his mate.

He needn't have bothered. “Feeling any better?” Alex asked, twisting his own head around to look at Thomas over his shoulder.

“A little, yes,” Thomas answered truthfully. “Why are you in bed at 7 o'clock?”

Silence. Then, “I needed to be with you, make sure you didn't need anything.”

It was a logical answer, if a bit clingy, but something in his mate's voice told Thomas that there was more going on here. He wished fervently that they weren't spooning, so that he could see his face. Discreetly as he could, he bent down and smelled his mate's skin, although his stopped up nose wasn't letting him get any clues from that avenue.

“I'm fine,” he told the omega in as reassuring of a voice as he could manage. “No fever, no trouble breathing, nothing dangerous. I'm just uncomfortable, not in danger, and probably not going to be doing much except for sleeping. You could go back to work if you'd like.”

Alex actually scoffed at that. “I'm staying right there,” he insisted. “You can't get rid of me that easily.” The joke came out forced and flat.

Well, then. Thomas reached over and kissed his mate gently on the neck, then buried his face in his mate's familiar skin. He wouldn't be able to tell later if he had dreamed it or not, but he could have sworn that right before he drifted off to sleep he heard Alex mutter something like, “I can't lose you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have built up to this a little more gently, but I'm pretty sure everyone saw this coming. Don't worry; Thomas getting sick (when he rarely gets so much as a sniffle) is not the big twist, and only half of the reason that I picked the title that I did for this fic! ;) Any guesses what's coming?


	5. The Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next to last chapter!

The fever hit the next day.

It was not pleasant, as it came with the normal body aches and chills. But it could have been far worse. Thomas took a dose of Sudafed after reading the label to make sure it had acetaminophen to reduce his fever, then burrowed under the covers to ride it out.

Every time he would rouse, Alex would be there. His mate’s scent was comforting, and Alex would get whatever he needed or just soothe him until he drifted off.

It took longer than it probably should have for him to realize that his mate was always there because his mate wasn’t leaving his side.

“Alex?” he muttered when he finally put the pieces together. “Why are you still here?”

Beside him, he felt Alex stiffen. “I’m taking care of you,” the omega responded rather defensively.

“I appreciate it,” Thomas assured him, propping himself up to talk with his mate. “But I know you’ve got that speech that needs finishing. You’ve been muttering about it all week. I’m fine, go work.”

Alex’s jaw set in a way that Thomas had been familiar with even before they were bonded. “Work will wait,” he said. “Right now, I’m sticking around to make sure that fever doesn’t get any higher.”

Alex didn’t want to work? Thomas didn’t know what to do with that; and, frankly, trying to parse it out was draining the last of what little energy he had. “I can always-“

“I’m staying, Thomas,” Alex interrupted him. Then seemed to realize what he had said. “As long as you don’t mind.”

Something was going on here, something important, but Thomas just didn’t have the brain power or energy to work it out. “Alright,” he agreed, settling back into the bed.

“Alright,” Alex repeated. It almost sounded like it was supposed to be a joke, but Thomas was done with nuance for now. Instead, he laid his head down on to the pillow and fell asleep to the feeling of his mate’s fingers stroking his hair.

* * *

He should go work. He knew that. Not only was the deadline for that speech fast approaching, but he needed to put distance between himself and his sick mate. His borderline obsession over Thomas’ health wasn’t helping either of them. Besides, the baby monitor was still set up in his office.

But every time he thought of it — of getting up, of walking out of the room and closing the door behind him, of going and sitting at his desk and focusing on his work — his chest would tighten and he’d feel his palms get sweaty.

“It’s just until the fever breaks,” he promised himself. That decided, he climbed into the bed and curled up beside his mate. In his sleep, Thomas immediately threw an arm over Alex’s body and wrapped himself around it. Alex allowed the love he felt for the Alpha to bubble up within himself, and pretended not to notice how hot to the touch his skin was.

The first time the twins had gotten sick, he remembered, had been difficult. It had been JJ, of course; tiny little JJ still suffered some of the consequences of his early birth, and all the vitamins in the world could only do so much. Ellie tended to get sick easily, as well, but JJ had seemed to be perennially ill his first year and a half of life. The little omega had looked so fragile curled up in his crib. Alex had spent many nights camped out in the chair in the nursery, until he had finally learned to accept what the pediatrician and all the mommy blogs and medical websites had told him – that his baby was going to be just fine, that he just needed time to strengthen his immune system and make up for the time lost that should have been spent in the womb.

But this was different. This was Thomas. The babies had gotten sick – of course the babies had gotten sick – and he had watched over them as any good parent should. It was the natural order of things. But Thomas? Thomas was the strong one. Thomas was the healthy one. Thomas was his rock, his center of gravity. Thomas wasn't supposed to get sick. Ever. That's not how it worked. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. If something were to happen to the Alpha ...

Alex wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was. How could he not, when he could feel the tropical sun baking his fevered skin just as surely as he could feel the mattress under his body? But now wasn't then, and Charlottesville wasn’t Nevis, and they had money now, and hospitals that actually made the sick healthy. Besides, it was just the flu. Thomas would be fine.

“Just until the fever breaks,” he muttered to himself. In his sleep, Thomas hummed in agreement.

* * *

The fever broke, finally.

Thomas knew that it was over when Alex's body pressed against his was just a body and not a heat source. The omega was curled up asleep, facing him, his head tucked under Thomas’ chin. Overcome with fondness, Thomas kissed the top of his head.

Alex must not have been sleeping very soundly, because he roused at the kiss. Thomas watched him unfold from his curled-up position, only to suddenly choke out a coughing fit. Thomas winced at the sound, as well as the look of pain that flashed across the omega’s face before disappearing.

Finally, Alex noticed that Thomas was awake. “You’re looking better,” he said brightly. Facing him, Thomas saw him smile in genuine pleasure at the news. He also could see how the smile did nothing to smooth out the dark circles under the omega's eyes.

“I feel better,” Thomas responded. “But you don’t seem to be able to say the same.”

Alex shrugged. “The cough is always the last to go,” he reminded the Alpha.

“The cough?” Thomas responded. “Yes, the cough is always the last to go. But what about the heartburn?” He knew he had guessed right when Alex looked away guiltily. Which was an odd reaction, all things considered. Alex had never been embarrassed about getting sick. Denial, yes; embarrassment, no. “And who's ever heard of getting heartburn during the flu?”

The expression on the omega's face turned from sheepish to pissed. Thomas knew that look – he had hit pay dirt. Something was going on. His mate was trying to hide something. “I thought _I_ was taking care of _you,_ not the other way around,” Alex reminded him.

It was a rather artless redirect, but no good would come of pushing the issue when Alex's mouth was twisted into that expression. “Alright,” Thomas agreed. “Just … you would tell me, if something was wrong?”

Alex huffed in annoyance. “Yes, _Dad,”_ he snarked. But some humor was coming back into his eyes, so Thomas counted it as a win.

“Alright,” Thomas repeated, deciding to give the omega the benefit of the doubt. “Well, if you're that committed to taking care of me, I could really use a bowl of soup. Do we still have some left over from your flu last week?”

Alex smiled fondly at his mate. “One bowl of chicken noodle soup, coming right up,” he promised, turning to leave the room.

Thomas sighed happily, looking forward to his first meal in almost 24 hours, and started to position himself more comfortably on the sheets. Then paused. “Alex?” he called after his mate. “What is the baby monitor doing on the dresser?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all knew that baby monitor was coming back, lol.
> 
> Also, WHAT IS ALEX HIDING?!?!?


	6. The Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to break this last chapter up into two chapters, for ~~dramatic tension~~ better pacing.

Whoever invented those pop tops on aluminum cans should get a medal. Or a Nobel prize.

Alex popped open a can of chicken noodle soup, mixed the contents with the requisite can of water, and put the whole thing in the microwave for two minutes. It probably would have tasted better cooked on the stovetop, but he wanted to get this cooked and finished as fast as possible. Besides which, Thomas’ flu meant that his taste buds weren’t exactly working at peak efficiency at the moment. Making food that the Alpha would enjoy was a bit of a broad target at the moment.

He stood and watched the bowl spin in the microwave as the numbers on the display counted down to zero. He stood and watched, and tried to get caught up in the movement, tried not to think. But Alex had never been good at getting his brain to stop.

The feeling that something was off had been ever-present for three weeks now. At first, he had thought it had been the flu, his body fighting a war with the invading virus that it had eventually won. But that hadn't been it. Then, he thought that maybe it was Thomas getting sick. But, distressing as that had certainly been, that hadn't been it.

It had all come to a head in the bedroom. “Who's ever heard of getting heartburn during the flu?” Thomas had asked. And Alex's subconscious, at a rolling boil these past few weeks, had flared up to scream at him.

He was missing something, some clue. The bowl of soup spun on, and Alex thought madly. Perhaps he should come at the problem from a different angle. Assume that the heartburn had nothing to do with his recent illness. Assume that it was a completely different symptom from a completely different problem.

Well, and people got heartburn all the time. Maybe he was developing that condition, acid reflex? Acid reflux? The one that they talked about on the commercials for that drug, Prilosec. Maybe all he needed was a daily dose of a little purple pill. But even as he thought it, he knew that that wasn't the case. His subconscious was still screaming.

What other symptoms was he experiencing? The cough; but that was just a lingering side effect of the flu. The headache; but that was also just a lingering-

Wait. Now that he thought about it, hadn't the headache _predated_ the flu-

And suddenly, in a flash of insight, he knew exactly what was wrong. Knew it just as surely as he knew his own name, or that the sun would rise tomorrow in the east.

He also knew what he needed to do.

And, terrifying as the fact may be, he knew he couldn't do it alone.

Soup forgotten, he immediately went in search of Abraham. Monticello wasn't that big; Alex easily found the beta in one of the guest rooms. He was … well, it didn't matter what he was doing. As soon as he saw Alex, he stopped.

“I need a favor,” Alex told him. Then told him exactly what he needed from the store.

The beta's face closed down, as his affection for Alex and his desire to please his employer's mate warred with his loyalty toward that employer. Eventually, though, he was convinced, and called in a member of the staff who usually worked in the kitchen.

Alex retrieved his wallet from his pocket and started to pull out his credit card, but hesitated and pulled out a few bills instead. Then studied the omega cook being sent on the errand. The kid seemed a little too eager to get out of the kitchen for Alex's frame of mind. Alex handed him three twenties and said, “if you're back in a half hour you can keep the change.”

Abraham frowned – probably thinking that the young man shouldn't need a monetary incentive to do his job – but Alex had no intention of waiting half the day while the kid enjoyed running his errand as slowly as possible on the clock.

Alex hesitated, considering, then pulled out another wad of bills and named another item to purchase. Abraham actually hissed at the request, but the young man didn't so much as bat an eye. Instead, he paused and studied Alex in an entirely new way. Suddenly, they weren't employer and employee, but two omegas, sharing a moment of perfect understanding.

“I'll be discreet,” the young man promised. “And fast,” he tacked on, almost as an afterthought. Then he was gone.

Alex ignored Abraham's censoring look to go retrieve the cooling soup and bring it to Thomas. He was lucky; Thomas had started to get sleepy again and was too out of it to sense the change in Alex. Instead, the Alpha ate his soup and went back to sleep. Alex lay with him long enough to be sure he was asleep, then went and retrieved his items from Abraham.

At which point he took the plastic bag with him into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

The bag had three items in it – two duplicates and one single bombshell of a box that Alex was careful not to let his eyes settle on as he pulled out the other two. He held them, one in each hand, the oracles of his future. So much power contained in so little cardboard and plastic. So much weight.

Even with the promise that he could keep whatever was left over from the purchase, the young cook hadn't brought the cheapest pregnancy test he could find. Instead, he had gotten name brand, and even sprung for twin packs. Four tests in total. Four should be enough, Alex decided.

He thought back to the last time he had held a pregnancy test; but all he could think about was Echo's chest at his back, Echo's hand on his skin like a branding iron, and his mind skittered away from the image like a crab across sun-burnt sand. Instead, he remembered being taught how to take them in sex-ed class, in high school, in New York City in the 90s. He remembered the Alphan P.E. teacher forced to teach sex-ed to a classroom of omegas, remembered the look on the poor man's face while he read aloud from the textbook about the miracle of omegan pregnancy. Alex had just immigrated to the States, a lanky 17-year-old trying to learn this new culture; but most kids in the class were freshmen, were only 13 or 14, and were completely merciless in their amusement at the teacher's discomfort. The information itself had been a mixture of facts, old wives' tales, and propaganda; but it had served him well over the years. He remembered the Alpha gingerly passing out pregnancy tests and shooing them off to the bathroom to take them – a very bad idea, in retrospect, but that was the 90s.

And now, in the present, he was stalling. Just as gingerly as that Alpha all those years ago, Alex opened both boxes of tests and shook them out onto the counter. He stared at them for a moment before scooping up all four with a curse and taking them over to the toilet.

Not only had the young man gotten a name brand, he had also sprung for the rapid result test. Just one minute. Just sixty seconds. That's all he had to wait until he had his results.

It was still the longest minute of his life.

Finally, the alarm on his phone went off, and he all but dove for the little tests.

The first display was negative.

The second display was negative.

The third display was positive.

He didn't bother to look at the fourth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you who guessed that Alex is pregnant go ahead and pat yourselves on the back, lol. This is when he finds out that he's pregnant with little Georgie.
> 
> Last chapter is the wrap-up, and how everyone involved takes the news.


	7. The Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for all the feels.
> 
> **Warning: this chapter contains some pretty intense emotion, as well as talk about abortion.**

So. He was pregnant. Somehow.

That wasn’t supposed to be possible.

When he gave birth to the twins, the doctors had been forced to perform a uterine artery embolization to stop the bleeding. They had cut off the blood supply to the uterus. No blood supply meant the organ had died. No uterus, no baby. It was literally that simple.

Well, and who had told him that? He hadn’t been awake when the doctors explained what had been done, as he was sleeping off the effects of the surgeries. The doctors had spoken to Thomas, who had then told him later. But Thomas wouldn’t have lied to him, especially not about something so important. Could Thomas have gotten confused himself?

But, wait, his obstetrician Dr. Hosack had also told him that there was no chance he could get pregnant again. That was the whole reason he hadn’t been taking suppressants since the twins were born — at Dr. Hosack’s suggestion. Would _he_ lie? But everyone kept saying that Dave was one of the best in the business. Why would he lie? What good could possibly come of it?

Unless Dr. Hosack was just as much a victim of misinformation as the rest of them.

 _Could_ someone get pregnant after a uterine artery embolization?

One quick Google search later, and the answer was: yes. It was rare, but it did happen. He was about to follow it up with another search about exactly how rare it was when he realized that it didn’t matter. Whether the odds were 10 to 1 or 10 million to 1, he had beat those odds. The question, now, wasn’t _how rare?_

The question, now, was ... well, was _now what?_

Almost against his will, his gaze darted to the plastic bag still on the countertop. For a second, for just a split second, he considered using the contents. Considered taking care of the problem in a very definite way. Going to Abraham, showing the negative results, and claiming it had been a false alarm. No one need be the wiser. No need for the pain and the blood and the razor’s edge of death that he had walked when pregnant the first time.

But then that split second passed, and he felt himself flush with shame at even considering such an act. This life he was carrying, it wasn’t just his — it was his and Thomas’. If he used the contents of that bag, it would be after he and his mate decided, together, as potential co-parents, as partners, that it was the best course of action.

So, where did that leave him now?

He looked down at his hand and saw it was shaking. Only then did he realize just how scared — just how _terrified_ — of this whole thing he was. He felt so over his head, so overwhelmed, and damn him for how weak and cowardly it was but he needed an Alpha’s advice more than he needed air right now.

The obvious Alpha to ask would be Maria. But she was working at the moment, and extracting her from the twins would be next to impossible. She was also more Thomas’ employee than his, and might feel that it was her responsibility to tell him what was going on. Besides, Maria got dumped on enough.

He could talk with his bodyguards, but they were _definitely_ more Thomas’ employees than his, and _definitely_ would be giving Thomas a play-by-play of the entire conversation before the day was out.

No other members of the staff or household were Alphas.

So. He gathered up his things, making sure to leave the bathroom exactly as he found it. The negative tests and boxes went into the trash can, but he buried them under the tissues and disposable cups in it so they weren’t visible. The positive test went into his bag, with the other thing. He took one last look around the room, double-checked that he wasn’t forgetting anything, then left.

He went straight upstairs, careful so the stairs didn’t creak. Monticello had a tiny second story, but it wasn’t used much. The two rooms upstairs were finished and livable, but always seemed stuffy and hot. One was used as an overflow guest room; the other, simple storage. Alex went into the guest room and closed the door behind him. No one came up here unless they had to; he wouldn’t be disturbed.

Washington answered on the third ring. “Alexander,” the man greeted him warmly.

“Are you alone?” was the first thing out of his mouth, in lieu of a greeting. It was rude, he knew, but his body was almost vibrating with tension. He couldn’t help it.

There was a pause on the other end, then: “I can be.” There was static over the connection as Washington put his finger over the microphone, but Alex could still hear somewhat as he dismissed whomever was in the room with him. There was some shuffling around as those persons complied with the dismissal. Then silence, and then a notification popped up on his screen that Washington wanted to FaceTime.

Alex immediately accepted, and Washington’s face filled his screen. “What’s this all about?” the Alpha asked warily.

He probably should ease into this conversation, but he was too agitated for subtlety or tact. “I'm pregnant,” he blurted out instead.

Washington, for his part, didn't twitch a muscle at the reveal. His face stayed the same blank slate. “And …?” he prompted the omega.

Alex huffed in aggravation. “And, this is a disaster,” he insisted. “It isn't even supposed to be possible. After the dumpster fire that was my last pregnancy? It was supposed to be impossible for me to get pregnant, ever again.” He realized he was pacing back and forth in his flustered state, and couldn't find it within himself to stop. “That’s why we stopped taking suppressants.” Washington’s eyebrow twitched, just a little, and Alex realized that that was probably more information than the Alpha wanted, but whatever. He was too manic to care. “But my body apparently decided to _do the impossible_ and get itself pregnant, and that’s a real inconvenience because it can sure get itself pregnant, _boy howdy_ how it can, but it will tear itself apart with the results, and ... _I almost died_ , the first time! I literally went to bed one night and woke up the next morning in a hospital bed with a brand new pair of twins, having lost so much blood that my whole body felt like fire and it took an immense effort just to drag myself up to go to the bathroom! Do you know how _terrifying_ that was? Do you know how it felt to have Thomas watch my every move when he thought I wasn’t looking, with an expression on his face like he was expecting me to just _drop dead_ at any moment? _I don’t want to do that again!_ I don’t want to go through all that pain and suffering again! And I love the twins, and it was worth it, knowing now that I survived and they survived and everything turned out okay; but the baby might not survive this time. _I_ might not survive this time! What if Thomas doesn’t rouse as quickly when my body decides to rip itself apart? What if the ambulance doesn’t get there in time? What if-?”

“Alexander,” the command came through the phone loud and clear, and decades of obeying his General stopped the tirade in its tracks. “What does Thomas think of all this?”

A perfectly reasonable question, he supposed. “He doesn’t know. You’re the first person I’ve told.”

Washington visibly assimilated this information, then asked the logical next question: “Why?”

Alex huffed again. _I wanted the advice of another Alpha, first,_ was how he meant to respond. “It was supposed to be impossible for me to get pregnant ever again,” he repeated instead. And, in the tone and inflection those words were spoken, realized something for the first time: it wasn't just fear driving his response to the situation.

Washington picked up on the same thing, naturally. “This situation isn't anything to be ashamed of. You realize that, right?”

Alex sniffled before he could stop himself. “My body never does what it's _supposed_ to do,” he responded, tilting his head so Washington couldn't see the tears suddenly streaming silently down his cheeks.

He heard Washington sigh. “Son, I'm flattered that when you needed advice, you came to me,” he said. “I'm glad that you see me in that light. So let me give you that advice: _talk to your mate._ All the things you have told me, tell him. He's not going to be ashamed or disappointed or whatever it is you're afraid of. I promise that.”

“And I second that promise,” a voice said behind him. Alex whipped around to see Thomas standing in the doorway. Like Washington, his face was carefully blank, but his features weren't hard. His scent was a miasma of emotions. “Hello, George.”

“Thomas,” Washington returned the greeting, suddenly sounding almost amused. “I trust you have it from here?” Thomas must have made some sort of gesture, because he nodded in response. “Don't worry; your secret is safe with me.” And the call ended.

Alex continued to stare at the phone, unwilling to look at his mate. So he didn't see it coming when Thomas walked over and scooped him up into his arms, bridal style. Alex's first reaction was one of shock; but Thomas' scent was suddenly almost tender, so he wrapped his hands around Thomas' neck and didn't protest as the Alpha carried him over to lay him gently on the bed. Thomas then climbed onto the bed himself, practically on top of Alex.

Alex didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't for Thomas to press Alex up against the headboard and cover his mouth with his own.

For a moment, Alex froze in shock. But Thomas' kiss was slow and sweet, and soon Alex couldn't help but yield his mouth to his mate. Thomas immediately accepted the invitation, and he and Alex fell easily into the rhythm of the kiss as they made out like teenagers. Thomas' hands came up to stroke his cheek and throat, Thomas' chest pressed up against his own, and all the tension and the grief and the shame of the last few hours bled away like magic in the familiar scent-touch-taste of his Alpha.

But, eventually, Thomas pulled away from the kiss. His hand left Alex's cheek to rest on his stomach, and the reality of the situation they found themselves in came crashing back down onto the omega. “You're pregnant,” Thomas stated.

“I'm pregnant,” Alex confirmed. Unbidden, his eyes darted to the plastic bag, where he had put the positive pregnancy test.

Thomas saw the movement and followed it. Before Alex could stop him he had picked up the bag to pluck out the positive test. Surprisingly, there was no reaction at what else was in there; maybe he hadn't seen it? “How do you feel about being pregnant again?” Thomas asked, without taking his eyes off the piece of plastic.

Alex felt a tiny bubble of anger grow in his chest. “You heard,” he reminded his mate.

“I heard what you told George,” Thomas agreed. “I would like very much if you would tell me.” The soothing calm of his voice helped bleed out that anger, give Alex the strength to comply.

“Fear,” Alex admitted. “Terror, actually. Shame.” That last one was hard to admit; but he had already heard it from Washington. “Betrayal.” That one was even harder to admit.

Thomas nodded. “Thank you for being honest,” he said, “it couldn't have been easy.” Alex studied his mate suspiciously, but the words appeared completely and totally sincere. “Would you like to know how I feel about you being pregnant again?”

He nodded his consent. It was silly, he knew, but he still felt the need to brace himself as he waited for the answer.

“Shock,” Thomas answered honestly, and Alex flinched. But then … “Wonder. Awe. Amazement. Excitement. Pride.” Finally, Thomas looked up from the test; Alex was surprised to see the raw emotion written on the Alpha's features, the naked adoration. “It was supposed to be impossible for you to get pregnant again,” he echoed Alex's words from just a few minutes ago. “The fact that you did, anyway, is a miracle. Not a betrayal; a miracle.” Test put to the side, he stroked Alex's cheek with his thumb. “It just proves how uniquely amazing my omega is. And why I am so proud, so honored, to be his Alpha.”

Alex gazed up at the Alpha through eyes streaming tears. “I love you,” he mumbled wetly.

Thomas smiled down at him. “And I love you, too. So, so much.” The Alpha reached down and captured his mouth again, and this time Alex yielded immediately to the kiss.

However, they weren't finished here. This time, it was Alex that pulled away. “Now what?” he asked his mate, curious if Thomas had a game plan.

Apparently, he did. “Now, we decide if we're going to keep this little miracle.” This time, it was Thomas' turn to unconsciously dart his eyes to the plastic bag still laying on the bed.

So, he _had_ seen the other item in there.

Alex swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. He considered asking Thomas about it, what he thought about it, but Thomas beat him to it. “I'm not adverse to … it, if it's the right decision,” he said. “What I said before, when you were pregnant with the twins? Still applies. I'm not now, nor will I ever, be even tempted to sacrifice the mother for the sake of a fetus. However, that decision needs to be based on logic and facts, not panic and emotion.”

Alex nodded his agreement. “I couldn't use … it,” he told his mate. “I considered it, but never seriously. Not without talking with you first.”

Thomas smiled at him. “I know,” he assured the omega. “In the meantime, let's get some of those facts. Let's call Dr. Hosack's office, and get you an appointment.”

Thomas leaned in to kiss him again, but something else popped into Alex's mind and he pulled back. “How did you find me up here, anyway?” he asked.

Thomas' expression went a bit squirrelly. “Abraham told me what was going on.” Then the bastard actually had the audacity to _smile_ at Alex's sputtered outrage. “And while up here was definitely a good choice of a hiding place, you kind of ruined it with all that stomping around and yelling.”

Alex felt himself blush at that. He had gotten so used to the soundproofing done to most of the bedrooms downstairs that it had never occurred to him that the relatively unused upstairs may not have had the same treatment.

Thomas' smile widened to a grin at his mate's embarrassment. Alex was still trying to decide whether to be angry at that, when his expression suddenly turned fond. “God, you're so beautiful,” the Alpha said. "My amazing miracle of a mate." And then they were kissing again.

Alex decided he would let it go, just this once.

Then, a week later, decided to let it go again when his appointment with Dr. Hosack had to be postponed. All that making out had given Alex another round of the flu.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I kept on being like "one more chapter after this"? See, it's different this time, because it's an epilogue. An epilogue isn't the same thing, right?


	8. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I said 'one more chapter'? I meant it this time. Enjoy the epilogue!

They were going to wait and announce the pregnancy later, well into the second trimester. That had been the plan, at least. George kept true to his promise and had not told anyone about Alex’s little miracle — not even Lafayette, apparently, because Alex had made it clear that the French omega couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, and if George had told him then half of Virginia and D.C. would have known by nightfall. So, for now, the only people who knew were himself, Alex, George, Maria, and a few select members of the staff.

All of that changed, however, when someone snapped a cellphone pic of Alex coming from an appointment with Dr. Hosack and sold it to a tabloid.

It still should have ended there, except that no former child stars had been going on any benders recently, and Twitter had been refreshingly devoid of celebrity feuds for weeks, so the gossip rags were starting to get a little hungry and jumped on the fresh story.

Suddenly, _TMZ_ and _Us Weekly_ were posting baby bump watches. _People_ did a follow-up piece on their “modern fairy tale” whirlwind bonding and an update on the twins. On social networking sites, the hashtags #thalex and #jefferkids were suddenly trending again. Both mates’ account subscription count exploded.

Fan blogs and websites were taken off of hiatus and new gifsets were being made. Worse, fan art and fiction was being created and posted online. Alex even showed him a surprisingly detailed and skillfully executed charcoal drawing of the mates mid-coitus. Thomas would have found the drawing a lot more creepy and disturbing if Alex was able to stop laughing at it.

The company in charge of the Jefferson family's safety, however, wasn't amused when it found the drawing the next day. The head of security for Monticello took Thomas aside and explained his concerns for Thomas' mate's safety. Thomas remembered what Alex was carrying, and what happened the last time he was pregnant, and had to agree. Alex just rolled his eyes when his personal entourage went from two bodyguards to four.

Of course, within 24 hours of the leak, both men’s phones were blowing up. People close to the couple were calling and texting to see if it was true. Alex even got a call from his brother in Nevis, and a quick text from John Laurens. Some were congratulatory; others were upset at having to find out via social media and the press.

Of the latter category, the most memorable member was Lafayette, who sent Alex a text telling him that he couldn't believe his former nestmate had done this to him, and that he never wanted to talk to Alex again. Thomas had been concerned when Alex showed him the text, but Alex had just shrugged. “It's Laf's way of trying to make me feel guilty,” he said. “Trust me, he doesn't mean it.” Alex replied with a long and rather beautifully-worded apology, explaining the circumstances and that it wasn't personal. Lafayette replied right away with a reminder that he wasn't talking to the other omega ever again. That text was followed less than 36 hours later with a string of baby onesies Alex just had to get for the baby. “See?” Alex showed the Alpha, who just shook his head at the French omega's antics.

* * *

Two weeks later, various gossip rags were still posting “bumpdates”. One had featured a cellphone photo someone had taken of the omega at lunch after church that Sunday. Alex’s security had not been happy about that. They were even less happy with the photos someone had taken of Alex drinking his morning coffee on the south terrace of Monticello with a cheeky caption wondering if the coffee was decaf. Alex hadn't been happy with that one, either, and so didn't even roll his eyes when his bodyguard count went from four to six.

Although he balked at the new restrictions on going out in public. No more casual lunches with the family after church. No more walking the Downtown Mall. No more taking the kids to the water park at Meade Park. No more running up to the Market at Mill Creek for a quick sandwich and flirting with the Alpha behind the register because it made Thomas jealous. No more life outside of the Little Mountain.

So he put his foot down. “This is ridiculous,” he told the team that had been gathered to go over the security at Monticello. “I'm not letting you brick me away in a tower like some omega in a fairytale. They're just photos, for Christ's sake.”

“But, Darling,” Thomas had tried to argue, “they came onto our mountain, at our home, and took photos of you on private property.”

“Yes, and I know you're talking about litigation over it, and I'm all for it. That photographer broke the law. But this?” He had gestured to the latest photo set – him coming out of Giant where he had gone for cough drops and more apple juice while recovering from his second round of the flu. He had seen the photographer coming, and had unconsciously cradled his abdomen protectively. Then his bodyguards had sent the photographer on his way, but the photos had already been taken. “What is this hurting? Thomas, you're a public figure, and I was one for years. We get photographed when we're in public. That's how it works.”

“What is it hurting?” Thomas repeated. “This all started after someone snapped a photo of you coming out of Dave's office, remember?”

“Yes, and that was unfortunate,” Alex conceded. “But, again, part of the territory when you're a public figure. And certainly not grounds to completely stop having a life! You didn't mind when we were first bonded.”

Thomas had snorted in dismissal. “That was before-” he began, then cut himself off.

But not before Alex realized where the conversation was going. “Oh. My. _God._ No one is going to kidnap me, Thomas! That was a fluke thing, and it only worked because _I didn't have a security detail, at all, the way I should have, because the guy running the Secret Service was an omegaphobic piece of shit!_ Do you want to let him win, Thomas? Do you want to completely shut down and not have a life at all because some knothead with an inferiority complex decided to commit treason? Because, as you liked _very much_ to remind me for awhile there, _that's not what my therapist said was healthy!”_

So Alex's security detail went from six to eight, and he agreed to limit his time in public. (“Someone else can run get your damn sandwich from the Market. It's what I pay them for!”) He also agreed to stop all spur-of-the-moment excursions and allow his security team to properly scope the area before he went anywhere. But, in return, they could still be normal people in public.

One other decision was necessary: how to break the news of Alex's pregnancy to the public. Because it was going to break, one way or another, and better this than someone leaking his medical records or something.

So they posted an image to Instagram. Maria, who turned out to be quite the natural with a camera, took the photo. Thomas knelt at Alex's feet, and Alex lifted up his shirt to allow Thomas to kiss his just-starting-to-pooch belly while gazing up at his mate with what could only be described as naked adoration. In the corner of the image, Maria edited in the baby's due date. The resulting image was simple, elegant, and very tasteful.

It hit one million likes in just over 24 hours.

* * *

Alex had been clear for months – no baby shower. The baby boy (whose name they still hadn't decided on) was not his first child, and they didn't need help to afford the various paraphernalia that came with a newborn. Besides which, just like his last pregnancy, he had started having some problems with nausea and morning sickness late in the second trimester, and didn't much feel like the trouble of a party.

Still, he was suspicious when Washington texted him and Thomas that he had a day open and would like to come down and have lunch with them. He was more suspicious when Washington insisted on that lunch happening at the Timberwood Grill north of town, as that restaurant had a private banquet room. Thomas just shrugged, however, and reminded Alex that Washington was the President of the United States and would undoubtedly be shutting the entire restaurant down for security reasons, banquet room or none.

But Thomas wanted to go, and Maria encouraged him to get out of the house, and his security team liked the idea of their charge being under the watchful eye of the President's detail. So Alex put on his favorite pair of maternity jeans and his lucky unicorn tee, and away they went.

And when a group of their friends and family yelled “Surprise!” when they walked through the door? Thomas jumped, but Alex just muttered “I knew it!” low enough so that only Thomas could hear.

Lafayette had decorated this baby shower, as well. (“Who else would have put in all the attention to details that I do, so that your party is perfect, _mon ami?”_ ) Just like last time, Alex was escorted to an armchair (how they had gotten it into the restaurant, he didn't know), and Thomas to a chair beside him. Then came lunch, then party games, and gifts, and finally the cake.

And, while he was sitting in his armchair, eating that cake, he found himself gazing fondly at his mate. Thomas noticed and smiled back, revealing lips and teeth stained blue from the cake icing, then leaned over to kiss Alex's forehead. Alex found himself giggling at the contact, then rested his head on Thomas' shoulder. And, with his mate's scent in his nostrils and his dearest friends in front of him, decided that there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

* * *

The photo that Martha discreetly snapped of that moment, Alex laying his head on Thomas' shoulder with a blue kiss mark on his forehead, trended on Instagram for weeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where to begin?
> 
> First of all, I decided not to put anything about Alex's visits to the OB in the fic itself, except for references to them happening. We did that in the fic where he's pregnant with the twins. This time around he's not fighting PTSD (at least, not as much), and both he and Thomas know what to expect, so the visits aren't nearly as exciting. I also didn't go into the talk that they had afterward, when they sat down and decided to keep the pregnancy, because you all knew coming in that he did end up keeping the baby, and exactly what the results were. Gotta keep the prequel game strong.
> 
> Second, I am not one of those people who follow celebrities, like, at all; so while I'm pretty sure everything here is stuff I've actually heard about, I may have gotten some of the details wrong. Yes, the photographer that took a photo of Alex on the terrace was breaking the law, as the paparazzi cannot enter private property or "use a telescopic lens to survey private property". However, they do it all the time, and they usually get away with it, because it's just not worth going to court over when you're a celebrity. Being famous sucks if you have any desire for privacy at all, apparently.
> 
> Last, I'm not done with this universe. I have plenty of fics planned for the future, including several through the kids' point of view. So if you haven't subscribed to my "[Hamil-ABO 'Verse](https://archiveofourown.org/series/636134)" you may want to, so you'll know when those are posted.
> 
> Leave me love in the comments, and I'll see you guys next fic! <3


End file.
